


Waiting

by bellalinguista



Category: Grey's Anatomy, Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, F/F, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24349600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellalinguista/pseuds/bellalinguista
Summary: “I’m here for you; I’m not leaving." So, Carina waits. By herself. In an empty apartment.(Takes place during 3x15)
Relationships: Maya Bishop/Carina DeLuca
Comments: 16
Kudos: 164





	1. Texts

“I’m here for you; I’m not leaving.” 

“Okay. Okay. I’m- I’m.. I’m.. I need, uh, I need to run. So, I’m gonna.. I’m gonna go on a run,” Maya stammers, trying to elude a false sense of reassurance and confidence, as she rounds the kitchen island and avoids Carina’s gaze.

Spinning herself in her seat, Carina follows Maya with her eyes. She says nothing, nor does she get up from the chair because she knows it would not make a difference - or rather, it would accomplish the complete opposite of her desired intentions. It would only make Maya even madder.

Hearing rushed steps down the hallway, Carina braces herself for what she knows is coming.

_SLAM_.

Regardless of its anticipation, Carina still jumps. Her heart races just a bit faster in her chest. She takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. 

It’s a bit embarrassing that even after all this time, doors slamming still make her feel a little bit uneasy.

Maya’s mind is set - it continues to trick itself and refuses to believe the reality laid out before it - and as Carina has said before: denial is truly a powerful force. It should not be reckoned with lightly. If Maya needs her run, then Maya needs her run.

Her run.

Her space.

Her time.

She would be back soon enough, right? How long could Maya run for exactly?

Carina’s shoulders drop slightly. She sighs. Yes, how long could _a gold medalist in track_ run for, right?

So, maybe she would be waiting for a bit longer than what she originally thought. Whatever the case, Carina’s mind is set too: she is going to wait. She is going to wait and the two of them would try to talk this out. This is not how they were going to leave things.

This is not how you handle a fight.

This is not how _they_ were going to handle _this_ fight.

Carina stands and fetches the rogue piece of whichever vegetable that Maya had accidentally (she assumes) flung to the floor while angrily chopping away. After tossing it away in the trash, she turns her attention to the kitchen island. She tilts her head at the pile of miscellaneous greens on the cutting board, not entirely sure what their potential outcome could have been. 

It was a little late for breakfast - still too early for lunch and she dislikes brunch as a concept. In all honesty, Carina isn’t a fan of American breakfast in general. Too heavy of a meal too early in the day. What was wrong with a good cappuccino and a _cornetto_?

Could she even find a good _cornetto_ in Seattle? she wonders quietly to herself. She hasn’t bothered to try yet.

Maybe she would have better luck finding a decent cappuccino.

The standard American coffee marker on the kitchen counter next to the stove catches the corner of her eye. She stifles a laugh under her breath and shakes her head at the greens, accepting the fact that is not about to discover a decent cup of cappuccino here, either.

She makes a mental note to get Maya her own Bialetti moka stovetop when this is all over, but Carina works with what she has available for now.

Abandoning the greens for the moment (eventually, in her attempt to kill however much time necessary, they would be stored properly in ziplock bags and put away before she’d move on to the rest of the kitchen), Carina searches the surrounding cabinets around the coffee maker for the filters and the fridge for the coffee grounds. The minimal amount, that’s all she makes, but even that seems a bit too much. She knows better. She knows how deceiving _il caffè americano_ can be.

She adds milk and sugar. She misses her 3 euro _cappuccini_ back home.

She misses Maya more, even if she _is_ upset with her. She’s trying hard not to be. People have different coping mechanisms. People come to terms with and process their denial differently. She knows this better than most.

As she takes her first sip of coffee, Carina makes a slight face and pulls her phone from her pocket. It lights up in hand -- no new alerts. No new messages. Although it is the expected outcome, she cannot help but frown at the screen.

She unlocks the phone and immediately goes straight for her messages. The conversation between her and Andrea pops up. Well, one probably wouldn’t exactly call it a conversation -- a conversation, you see, is normally between two people.

Not a string of texts from the same person.

> _Senti, fratellino mio, sono qui per te, ok?_
> 
> _Fammi sapere come posso aiutarti._
> 
> _Voglio solo aiutarti. Ti giuro._
> 
> _Andr é, sono preoccupata - per favore, scrivimi. _

Dragging herself over to the living room, she sits down on the armchair, tucking her legs under herself as she continues to stare at her unanswered messages as she hopes that the run is close to being over. It is not lost on Carina that she could easily send Maya all the same messages at this very moment. She refrains. 

As much as Carina wants to hash things out, to talk, and to make sure that Maya would be okay, she knows she needs to give Maya space right now, but the temptation, however, remains.

> _Listen,_ bella mia _, I’m here for you, okay?_
> 
> _Let me know how I can help you._
> 
> _I just want to help you. I swear._
> 
> _Maya, I’m worried - please, write to me._

Carina lets her phone fade to black, trying to convince herself that maybe she would be met with complete radio silence from Maya as she did Andrea (or maybe she wouldn’t - who knows?). She does not text a single word. No, she lets Maya have her run in peace instead.

She _needs_ her run.

As a second thought, shaking her head at herself, Carina turns her phone back on and swipes back over to her one sided conversation with her sweet baby brother. There is at least one more thing she has left to say to him. Post being given his diagnosis, he needs to know that things have not and will not change between the two of them. They were family.

He needs to hear it - read it rather: _ti voglio bene, Andrea. Abbi cura di te, va bene?_

I love you. Take care of yourself, okay?


	2. Cappuccino

Cycling through the same handful of mundane apps multiple times on her phone, as if anything would change in the few minutes that would pass in between previous accesses, Carina takes another small sip of her subpar cup of coffee, hyper aware of how slow time was passing her by.

And it’s already been two hours.

Or rather, has it  _ only _ been two hours?

She isn’t able to tell. She did know, however, that it’s  _ two hours _ .

Two hours of sitting in this armchair, now verging on being uncomfortable and becoming a bit stiff.

Two hours of listening to the hum of the fridge from the spotless kitchen.

She goes back to her messages, again - nothing. She finds no new messages for the millionth time since Maya stormed out, not from anyone. Today is unusually quiet and normally silence does not bother Carina. She grew up mostly alone when Andrea and  _ Mamma _ moved away from Italy.  _ Papà  _ didn’t spend a lot of time at home. He was usually at the hospital - sometimes even locked away in the home office, but that still constituted itself as being away at work (a time when Carina was immensely ignored). 

Home was usually very quiet unless  _ Papà  _ was having an episode.

Quiet was fine, but this?

Two hours of nothing.

Two hours of no contact.

Two hours of not reaching out.

Not even a hint of  _ something _ ,  _ anything _ .

Two hours of…  _ running _ ?

_ Two hours _ ?

Really?

Shaking her head and feeling her temper beginning to rise, she sighs and turns back to her coffee that she still hasn’t quite finished. She pauses a moment to stare down at the light brown liquid with a frown as she spots flecks of grounds that managed to make their way into the brew.

Not her best work, but she did her best with what she had.

Still.. Not good enough.

It could be better.

It should be better.

_ “Perché non fai qualcosa utile!?” _

_ SLAM! _

_ The sound of the door to the home office echoes throughout the apartment, but the young girl remains seated at the kitchen table, eyes focused on the cappuccino she had previously set across the way - at papà’s seat. Tears brimming, but refusing to cry at something so trivial, she narrows her eyes at the cappuccino, unaware at which step she obviously went wrong. _

_ The Bialetti moka is simple enough to use. She watched Mamma use it many times before she left for America and, well, the burnt smell, at least she thought, wasn’t… terribly strong. Isn’t that how you tell that it was done? _

_ The nine year old scoots off her seat and rounds the table to pick up the cup her father barely even took a single sip from. She carries it over to the sink and pours the clearly mediocre contents out. _

_ Carina frowns at the sight of specks of the ground espresso beans she now spots in the sink and she nods to herself.  _

_ “Ecco il problema,” she murmurs to the empty kitchen, still nodding. _

_ She would have to do better.  _

_ She had to do better. _

_ She needs to fix this and make this work. _

_ And she knows exactly who to ask, too. _

_ Turning quickly on her heel, Carina heads to the front door. She picks up her school bag that’s waiting for her and throws it over her shoulder. Out of habit, she shouts over her shoulder, “Ciao, Papà!” before closing the door behind her. _

_ She’s completely certain he did hear her. He often doesn’t. He’s too busy with work. Like always. _

_ It doesn’t bother her  _ too _ much. _

_ Instead of going straight to school, she makes a quick stop that she knows would make her late, but it’s okay. The sister’s stern yelling was nothing compared to what would accompany Papà’s episodes.. _

_ “Buongiorno, Totò!” she greets as she skips into the cafe.  _

_ The man behind the bar looks up, perplexed at first, but then he smiles. “Bambolina, what are you doing here so early?” he asks. “Don’t do you have school--”  _

_ “I need you to teach me how to make a cappuccino,” she interrupts. _

_ He looks over his shoulder towards the industrial espresso machine and back to the nine year old who had climbed onto one of the rarely used stools at the counter in front of you. “Carina, I think you’re still… a bit  _ too _ young to use--”  _

_ “No! With those!” she immediately corrects and points to the shelf above the machine, where the decorative collection of moka stove tops were displayed. “Please, Totò. It’s important.”  _

_ “Okay, after school today. After you sweep up the shop and after we have lunch, alright?”  _

_ “Va bene, grazie.” _

Wincing, Carina forces herself up from the armchair and crosses the living room, back into the kitchen. She places the now empty coffee mug into the sink. 

Maya should have been back by now.

They should have been talking and trying to work through this, together. She truly did want to be here for Maya, but Maya is… increasingly making it more difficult for her to keep her word - to stay, to be here for her, to not go anywhere.

But Carina should not still be standing in this kitchen, alone.

The phone in her hand vibrates and, suddenly, she feels her heart in her throat. She immediately turns to the screen on, only to be met with instant disappointment.

_ LOW BATTERY. _

Quietly under her breath, as if afraid to be overheard in an empty place where she is alone, Carina swears to herself in Sicilian. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she tries to calm her racing heart as a new intrusive thought crosses her mind. She unlocks her phone again and goes back to her messages, but it’s not straight back to Maya or Andrea.

New message.

Teddy Altman.

> _ Hey - random question, but I have to ask regardless: have there been any runner related incidents that have shown up in the ER in the last couple of hours, maybe? _

Her thumb hovers over the message for a second before, unsure if she should.. unsure if she would be ready for an answer that she would not want to hear. But it would be an answer, wouldn’t it?

She finally hits send.

A few seconds later, her phone vibrates again.

> _ No, nothing of the sort. Are you alright? _

A rather loaded question that Carina does not want to honestly answer.

> _ Yes, please do not worry about it. I will see you tomorrow at work _ .

She should leave. This is unacceptable. In any other situation, with any other person, she would have left by now - wouldn’t have thought twice about it. This is a waste of her time. This is  _ completely  _ unacceptable.

...Carina moves into the bedroom instead.


	3. Lip Gloss

Carina remembers that day after school, running to the cafe and quickly sweeping up the floors as the owner closed up the rest of the establishment for the afternoon. She had been so eager, but he insisted that they needed to eat lunch first - you should never put off a meal, he told her, knowing full well that if he did not offer her lunch, chances were that on most days she would go home to nothing (maybe a piece of fruit, or whatever snack she could find).

He made spaghetti aglio e olio that day - an easy dish that was often his own go to. He wasn’t a great cook. His wife did all the cooking at home before she died. He still had to eat, though, and it was hard to go wrong with aglio e olio. 

Nowadays, she realizes how much that man looked out for her on the sidelines, so to speak. Looking back now, Carina appreciates how Totò tried his best to take care of her in ways her own father had not been capable of - it was usually through allowing her to study in the cafe while it was closed for the afternoon (sometimes home was just.. too loud, too tense). It was her place of solitude that she would often share with one of her good.. friends from school.

Gioia had been a bit more than a friend, she reminds herself.

She hasn’t given her a thought in such a long while; she wonders how she’s doing. 

And, Carina could not forget, he’d also do his best to take care of her through what he’d call mediocre cooking (she tried to show him how to make other easy recipes, too).

It was the least Carina could do in return after he showed her how to make a decent cappuccino. From that day on, she could kind of gauge how papà would be on any given day. If he had the whole thing, it was usually okay; anything else, well… 

Those days were normally filled with more yelling and slamming of objects than usual.

To this day, as simple as it is, aglio e olio is one of her favorite go-to dishes. 

She misses Totò so much.

He passed away before she could finish med school, but the old man immediately started calling her  _ la dottoressa DeLuca _ on the day she told him that she got in.

She thinks about him whenever she makes herself her morning cappuccino; she tries to remind herself of his little daily wisdoms.

Don’t allow anyone to make you think little of yourself - that, in particular, was of his favorite ones to repeat to her constantly. He knew her father well. The whole town did.

Carina hovers at the end of the bed in Maya’s room, her hands resting on her hips. The blankets are still piled at the foot of the bed; the pillows haphazardly thrown about. This is where it all began - right here. Carina couldn’t have just left it at ‘how do you feel,’ no. She had to push harder. She could have avoided all of this by focusing solely on Maya.

They both could have been having a drastically different day.

But then Carina would still be walking on eggshells, trying to pretend that everything is fine when in reality they know otherwise.

And she is highly aware how unhealthy  _ that _ could be.

She doesn’t want to endure that experience again, not with Maya. She had  _ been  _ in Maya’s shoes. She knows what she is going through; she only wants to help, but she doesn’t know how to help without being pushed away.

Carina untangles the sheets at the end of the bed and tucks the corners under the mattress. After adjusting the pillows at the head of the bed, she pulls the blankets up and straightens them out. Plugging her dying phone from the charger on Maya’s side, she sits down on the edge of the bed.

Still no new messages.

Biting down on lip, Carina sighs, annoyed. Why is she still here? Why is she still bothering? 

She lies down on her side and pulls the pillow close. It still smells of Maya. The smell alone makes her stomach tie itself into tight, nervous knots -- maybe not so much knots? Flutters? A mix of both? Her heart beats faster. Tears begin to sting her eyes; she blinks furiously to keep them at bay.

She’s still here because this time.. this time it feels so different. This time she doesn’t want to walk away. This time it does not feel like an option -- giving up is not an option. This time, it feels worth fighting for.

Carina buries her face into the pillow and inhales deeply. Despite being so frustrated, despite being upset with how things were being handled, Carina cannot deny her growing feelings for the fire captain. Her heart flutters at the thought.

She hasn’t felt this way in a very,  _ very _ long time.

_ “Non ci posso cedere.”  _

_ “What can’t you believe?” Carina repeats, glancing up from her anatomy textbook and over to the dark haired girl sitting next to her on the edge of her bed. _

_ “That you actually did it,” Gioia replies, looking up from the lip gloss in her hand to meet Carina’s eyes. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” _

_ A smirk tugging on the corner of her lips, Carina shrugs her shoulders slightly in response, trying to be cool and trying to play it off. The other girl laughs - a sweet laugh that fills Carina’s stomach with butterflies. Trying to memorize anything from the textbook at the moment is a futile effort, but she continues to try to bury her nose in it. _

_ “Do you even know what flavor it is..?” the dark eyed girl questions teasingly. _   
  


_ The anatomy book holds her attention no more. She shifts slightly to face Gioia who is finishing applying the lip gloss. Carina glances down to the small tube in the other girl’s hand, but it’s already covered from sight. As if that weren’t enough to hide the crucial information, Gioia hides it behind her back. _

_ “No peeking, that’s cheating,” Gioia playfully chides.  _

_ “So how am I supposed to tell the flavor?”  _

_ Now the other girl smirks, “I think you can figure out a way..”  _

_ As Gioia leans forward, puckering her lips slightly, Carina feels her heart begin to race painfully in her chest. She could hear the rapid beats in her ears as her cheeks flush. _

_ She’s never…  _

_ Not with anyone. _

_ But she’s imagined it before - many times. _

_ And many times with  _ her _. _

_ “Dammi un bacio, Cari..”  _

_ Permission granted, Carina immediately leans forward as well, closing the space between the two of them. Gioia meets her half way, giving her a small kiss on the lips - one that Carina shyly returns.  _

_ “So…?”  _

_ Carina makes a show of licking her own lips, under Gioia’s watchful eye, and she shrugs her shoulders slightly. “I think I need a second taste,” she answers. _

_ “Then come get it,” Gioia whispers to her, sending chills across Carina’s entire body. _

_ Eagerly, Carina scoots herself closer and cups Gioia’s face tenderly with her hands. She presses another soft kiss against the girl’s lips. As she begins to pull away, she feels Gioia’s hand press against the back of her neck, keeping Carina in place. _

_ She isn’t going anywhere, Gioia doesn’t want her to. So, Carina kisses her again, licking and slightly sucking on her lower lip as she loses herself into the sweet, fruity taste of the other girl.  _

_ Distracted, Carina fails to hear her bedroom door open. Instead, she feels Gioia immediately push her away just a second too late. Carina turns to her stoic father standing in the doorway. He doesn’t say a word. _

_ “Papà,” Carina begins. _

_ SLAM. _

Carina suddenly jolts awake and sits up in Maya’s bed, confused and unsure when she fell asleep -- or for how long. Long enough for the sun to set, she notes, as the last of the natural light flees from the room.

Working out the kick in her neck, Carina sits up and fetches her now charged phone from the nightstand.

No new alerts.

Carina wishes she could say she’s surprised, but… 

But now she’s losing hope and the anger is building.

She doesn’t want to be either - hopeless and upset.

Carina leaves the room and does a quick sweep of the apartment - still empty. Shaking her head, Carina turns on the hallway lights and sits down on the cushioned bench at the end. She doesn’t know how much longer she’d be able to do this.

Still, she didn’t want to give up.

So, Carina continues to wait. She waits until all daylight has vanished and the evening settles. Not soon after, though, she hears keys unlocking the front door. Carina didn’t expect to be washed over by a wave of relief; it subsides her anger for a moment.

Maya steps through the doorway and, finally, for the first time since late morning, Carina knows that she is safe. When Maya turns to catch her sitting there, she offers a small, silent wave. She says nothing.

“I thought you left,” Maya says as she takes a couple of hesitant steps away from the front door of the apartment.

“I.. I.. I almost did,” Carina admits, honestly. “But then I thought-”

“I don’t need anything except space,” Maya interrupts.

“I can see that you're pushing me away,” Carina assures as she tries to remain calm. She cannot lose her temper. Losing her temper serves no purpose right now. “And I want to give you space-”

“Then give me space,” Maya states firmly, interrupting once again.

“I understand that you’re going through a lot,” Carina affirms, gripping on tightly to her phone in one hand and using her other to run through her hair - a nervous tick. Maya needs to stop interrupting her. Maya needs to just let her talk.  _ They _ both need to talk, otherwise they weren’t going to get anywhere. “And I’m trying not to be mad at you-”

“Well I just slept with Jack an hour ago, so be mad at that,” Maya spits angrily, before making her way into her room. She swings the door behind her.

_ SLAM _ .

For the first time in a long time, Carina doesn’t jump. Instead, her shoulders fall and she releases the breath she didn’t realize she is holding. Tears stung as they finally brimmed over, trailing down her cheeks. She lets out a singular sob as she buries her face into her free hand. Maya’s confession hits her like a wall of bricks.

All day. Carina spent all day worrying about Maya. She spent all day allowing her to process her reality, to maybe realize that she needed help. Carina spent all day not giving up on Maya because Carina was foolish enough to believe that the other woman thought they were worth it, too.

She chokes back another sob, not wanting to be overheard. Closing her eyes tightly, she brushes away the tears with the back of her sleeve as she pushes herself up from the bench. She walks down the hall, passing the door to the bedroom and resisting the urge to just burst in and start yelling.

God, did Carina just want to yell. The anger she had been trying to fight off all day is bubbling over, ready to burst. She wants to lash out at Maya. She wants her to know how she spent all day worrying about her, all day struggling to convince herself that this relationship was worth going through familial issues. Carina wants her to know how she thought she was doing the right thing, letting her go on this little run of her -- how maybe that run would help her towards the right step of getting past this denial. Carina wants to scream at her how much she felt betrayed.

No, instead, Carina forces herself to walk past and head to the front door which she aggressively pulls open. Grinding teeth together, she steps out of the apartment.

_ SLAM _ .

**End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to write some fun fluff next time.


End file.
